Cave Johnson's EMails
by thricekeg
Summary: Cave Johnson's public and private emails that he sends to anyone in Aperture Science, be it the employees, monkeys, test subjects and other, available for all to view! Now included are emails sent by alternate, multiverse versions of Cave, which essentially means that anything is possible.
1. EMail 1

Alright, so recently Aperture Science has been in the dump for the last few years involving cash as we've been forced to sell every last ounce of moonrock. The last thing we need are test subjects from all over the world throwing unnecessary fits of anger at us for labeling them with numbers.. Which is exactly what happened a few days ago. Let me put this out there: As CEO of Aperture Science Innovators (Science, all the like) I'd like to point out that labeling you by simple numbers isn't an insult. Plus, you people volunteered for the damn stuff! You asked, we created. End of story. If you volunteer, that means we have complete control over your name and the sorts. If you're going to whine about being labeled a test subject out of another 6000 people that have been so, take it up with our foreman. We've been preparing for this unlikely event in which our customers complained about being called by a NUMBER, so we set up what we call the Robot Transversion Facility. All you have to do is ship 300 dollars to us. Cash. What it'll do? Simple! We'll replace your organs with.. Nothing. And add silver over your bones. Then we'll remove your skin and replace it with either Copper ($30), Silver ($559) or Gold ($127,000)! Again, all you have to do is ship 300 dollars cash and we'll send a robot right to your home to convert you into a robot for testing!

We don't exactly know what'll happen when you're converted. You'll either go on a massive killing spree, which will earn you a reputation for being.. Well, really really evil. But that shouldn't happen! In fact, under the risk that it does happen, we've made sure that your brain functions immediately shut down at the touch of human contact. You might explode for various reasons I can not explain, which shouldn't happen either because we're good at this stuff.

P.S. In case you're wondering, the pain is minimum during conversion. Our foreman makes sure the bots who successfully convert you, well, do it successfully. However, under the minimal circumstances that our Foreman screws up and/or gets angry for some odd reason, the bots will probably cause vast amounts of pain during the process. Don't worry though! Worst case scenario, you die. Best case scenario, you withstand the horrific pain but live to tell the tale.

P.P.S Turns out if you DO live to tell the tale, you'll most likely die during the overwhelming tests in which we will test you in. Not a surprising outcome; most of our test subjects die anyway.. horrifically. Hey, we're all being honest here. You go home, I continue making one million in cash each month. I may have exaggerated the amount, but we both know it's a lot of money each month.

-Cave Johnson


	2. EMail 2

"Hello Mr. Johnson. I'm a test subject at your laboratories and thus am happy to help out for the best. My question is.. if most, if not all, Aperture science things and such can withstand temperatures beyond expected, why don't we establish a command center that orbits the sun? It would be of huge interest to the workers of our rival Black Mesa, so if we leak this information to them get them on-board with the project and they miraculously begin being pulled into the sun by it's gravity and become incinerated while in the center, could we use this to our advantage and say they died in the name of science?" -Test Subject #44935

Good point, Test Subject! I like your style!

Unfortunately, Black Mesa is our rival for one thing: Stealing things from us. That means that they'll most likely have our Science Disprover Beam, which determines what would be worthy to test and gain results for Science or not. Good news is we made that beam, meaning we could simply have our engineers build a new device that contradicts all of the beam's results entirely! Bad news? Black Mesa will probably steal that too. Coming from an honest man, I gotta admit Black Mesa is skilled at stealing stuff from us.. 3000 miles below the surface.

Until I figure out that Black Mesa is sending out men with BLACK MESA shirts on to trick my people into giving anything, I won't be firing their asses. I'll admit your idea for a command center was good, but believe it or not we tried that. First time, we filled the place with 300 of our guys and 33,000 random people from all over the world. The results were highly informative!

..They all died crashing into Jupiter.

The good news is we tried it again, 5 months later. Repositioning the command center did the trick! Except it was smashed to pieces by an asteroid and rocketed into the sun. We decided it was a faulty idea, until Caroline informed us that the Command Center had to be positioned near the asteroid belt with a bunch of Hard Light Bridges. It worked, except that was 12 years ago. The command center probably got thrown off orbit and flew into space. Theory is they either died from one of the above or froze to death because of the lack of.. Well, the sun.

Again, thank you for the question! All in all though, it might not work. We might try again sometime in the near future assuming we can get ourselves hauled from bankruptcy.


	3. EMail 3

Right, let's get one thing clear, and you'll know this is true because I'm Cave Johnson and I'm the CEO of a company that hasn't been crushed from the overwhelming amount of crap that's literally above us at this very point because my company is u_nderground_. My employees, let's be honest, most of them don't actually listen. This is a bad thing because, whereas when you don't listen upstairs, you're either subject to being in a cage with a fat man or you're spanked by your parents. Or you're grounded, if spanking is now not the new cool. Or, if you're really creative, they _kill_ you. Honestly hope that's not true, though! Then we won't have enough candidates for testing!

..Okay, Caroline informed me that joking about disturbing or grisly deaths may not have been the best way to start out a fairly informative new email for you. Hell if I care! Mentioning that possibility just gave me an idea! New device? The Robotic Cooperative Emotion-Lacking Sensor! No, it's not the _sensor_ that lacks emotion, you morons. Last time we gave a robot emotions it suffered through tears of extremely sharp metal. Just.. don't ask me why I agreed to _also_ giving it pain receptors. It got so upset, we had to.. listen, just learn something from this informative email.

**INFORMATION TEXT-BASED POWERPOINT TO APERTURE SCIENCE'S INCLUSIONS**

Greetings, viewer! This informational text-based powerpoint provided by my very own, personally looked-over paragraphs will be obviously informational for the newcomers and employees for entertainment and other. Before I start, I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Cave Johnson, somehow unpopular despite CEO of Aperture Science!

Test chambers. Most people assume that test chambers are just walls, a ceiling and a floor. These "people" had better damn well be the newcomers, though. Now, they are that, except they're also much more. First, you've got air, pumped freshly through oxygen generators that can easily be manipulated, I'll be honest, but we do add a spice of CO2 in there. Now, the walls? They're just walls. Boring. Sit there all day and develop mold quite like many of my employees sitting in their chairs all day. There's also the occasional monkey. No, I'm not talking monkey and idiot, I'm talking full-blown monkey in a labcoat and nothing else. At this point, it's not a nuisance, it's a scientific breakthrough. The fact that employees are disappearing without a trace and replaced with monkeys?

Anyway, fortunately for all of us here, we've solved the boring wall problem tactfully by making the walls portalable, which isn't exactly a surprise considering these walls are in every test chamber and you NEED portals to solve the test. Unless you don't and solve it anyway, in which case I'll have Caroline not give you a medal, but have you kicked out for completing it the wrong way.

Panels. Fully configurable, infinitely variable and safe.. is what my thought was before the panels started killing our test subjects with minds of their own Is what I and the monkeys employees say about them! Test chambers used to sit there being solid. We made them better by adding in the panels, which allowed the walls to actually move and rotate! Now, honesty is a large portion of the Aperture Science guidelines, so let me stay true to that. The solidity of the test chambers actually began making people mad, and we didn't want to have things moving around for the hell of it. We wouldn't know if it was distracting them too much, aiding with the solving of the test or if it just drove them even more insane. That's why we incorporated panels into test chamber design.

The mentioning of panels was also necessary to the elder test subjects. Most of our death certificates associated with most of our old test subjects had them tiring out literally right in between the exit door because they apparently thought resting in between the door and the floor would mean victory. Instead.. well, you understand. Grisly. Therefore, our panels helped them! Now we just need to figure out why they fall asleep under crushers. Not sure if it's a coincidence or a subconscious death wish. Good stuff.

The Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device, the Aperture Science Quantum Tunneling Device, or ASHPD, if you will! At first glance, our fairly regular and criticized Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device seems, well, regular. I mean, it's nothing more than a beam on top with an aperture logo imprinted on the side. That, and it has no sense of artistic taste whatsoever. It's just white. I informed everyone to _not_ take it for granted! Not just because it's a stupid design, but because it'll set off my employees. The Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device is ridiculously important to them for some reason. Hell, we have over 120,000 in stock and yet they act as if we've got one. Gets on my nerves.

All arguments aside, the plain Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device, without any artistic style, is by far our best invention. Each and every one of our chambers as well as test subjects rely on this baby, even the gels. Not the rigged gel, the regular gel. I must, MUST inform you that you may not take it apart and mess with the miniature black hole inside the device. Yes, you were probably expecting something more smarter-sounding than just "don't mess with it", but at the end of the day, I'm serious. Don't mess with the damn device.

The Quantum Space Hole! You learned about the Aperture Science Handhe- ASHPD. Now, you're wondering, "what's the hole it shoots out called?" Well, okay, you probably aren't concerned about the name of the hole, but how it works. To answer the predictable question and be perfectly clear and in an illogical manner, it shoots a hole... but doesn't. To be perfectly unclear and logical, it doesn't shoot a hole. First off, that's impossible. How do you shoot a _hole_? It's a beam, which then expands to become a quantum space hole!

Now, the olhe itself is the most complicated part. The hardest part is hoping for our lives that we aren't the first victims of a catastrophically ridiculous black hole incident. The easiest part.. well, there isn't really. We've spent a number of years attempting to develop the thing. Honestly, if you want to know how the tunneling process works, ask an employee.

And that concludes this lesson. A lesson that I had to summarize a hundred times earlier. It'd be shameful to be babysitting you all if I hadn't wrote and actually enjoyed this. Oh, and reading this and getting through it and actually getting it is the equivalent to 500 Science Safety Opportunity points. You won't imagine where I hid that lie detector! Good job, people, and get back to work!


	4. EMail 4

Right, we're working on a little clothing device we call the Cats-eye Goggles. This time there's no hidden meaning, though, and instead we're calling it for what it actually is. That's right, everybody! For a purpose that even I don't know, with these goggles you simply strap them on for an hour, take them off and you've got cat eyes! Just one reminder though: These are for your aesthetic needs. You're not going to be seducing panthers or lions anytime soon, nor are we encouraging you to abandon all that's ahead of you, running into a savannah and tending to your supposed four-legged forefathers.

Again, -no hidden meaning-. We've learned from our mistakes. I'm not going to be calling anything the Aperture Partytime Successor anytime soon, and you know it's not living up to it's true name because I'm not talking about it's legacy.

Now that we've got _that_ out of the way, I'm going to be writing a new mini-book. The Tao of Success. You're probably wondering why it doesn't sound incredibly egotistical like Cave Johnson Thought, Caveism or the Tao of Cave. On any other day you'd think otherwise, but I'm telling you now that the book literally involves -every plan- I have in order to boost the future into success. Now you're probably wondering why that's necessary. Why would you want to boost the future with a piece of paper if you're already going to win the election, and if you don't win it why would you want that sad son-of-a-gun who's currently using a percentage of the population for his own needs to boost -his- priorities which don't involve tasks that do -not- involve cows, flying saucers and London or snorkelers on fire underwater with columns of watermelons as their spine?

Here's a question. What future? Without me as your president, first of all, there is no valuable future that could possibly be looked back on and make yourself think, "Wow, I'm so glad Greg's head didn't get stuck in a revolving door and ultimately bursting thanks to the productive method of Cave that made revolving doors translucent walls you could walk through with the color of -your- choice!" Second, I'm not talking about what future you're thinking about, unless you're thinking about what I'm thinking about and not what I think you're thinking about. I'm talking about a point in the future where reproducible human errors are a problem, though this time also including reproducible can errors and wall errors, ultimately meaning everything is living. My point is, if the future brings "Plants-and-wood vs. Everything" to a literal point or you're just very far into the future, the Tao's going to help!

Just a note, if there's a Chinese-heritage Cave Johnson from whatever multiverse, he's probably going to be ripping you off. Oh, and his excerpts of the book may involve something like how special stacked houses are and why their eyes will be an extremely important feature in the year 2477. No offense, but that's _never_ going to be important. Unlike Chinese Cave, I'll be talking about how you succeed. One more note, the Tao of Success WILL NOT be showing you how to have cows operate flying saucers as a supreme goal to either turn London into greases-slop or turn that big clock tower into upright stacks of bacon and/or beef.


	5. EMail 5

Hello, people! (and hopefully other test subjects, because this is important).

Now it's June, and the heat is kicking in. At least that's what I'm hearing by the internet, and unless they're wrong, I won't be kicking off the air conditioner flowing throughout Aperture. Now, granted you know what this heat feels like, I'm sure you can relate to it judging by the name of this post, and what'll be coming up. However, before you pull your jumpsuit off and ready yourself for warmth as Aperture for the first time in years warms up the enrichment spheres while you test to feel the experience for the first time in a set amount of time, I want to take the opportunity to show a question I have been given to by Test Subject #12! And this is his simple question:

"Hi, Mr. Johnson. Wow, it's warm! And one thing that I thought of with warmth is, quite oddly, radiation! I have been studying radiation since my teenage years and one thing I do despise is one hell of a mutation when irradiated by radiation. I'm curious, and this ties up to my question, assuming we had the time to build a mega-large room in which nuclear weapons could be tested in and gas inhibitors that could transfer liquid, gas or solid to any other selected state of matter, what if we gassed the room using atmospheric radiation? Or maybe liquidized radiation? Thanks!" -Test Subject #12

Also, just a side note before I answer the question: I won't lie. I edited this as much as I could into an interesting question by making it seem long and not just one simple question. And yes, it was an incredibly simple question, but I took the time to switch around reality quite a bit. Oh, and brilliant question.

While Aperture Science hasn't experimented much with radiation at all, now that I think, I have had my fair share of radiation! And what experiences have I had? Well, I've seen people become horrible, unspeakable, unimaginable things.. And you wonder why I still want to do this? Because this time, Aperture won't make that tragic mistake.. Mainly because we don't want to pay 110 million in cash by stealing our employees savings. Now, we have run into a few errors: Gas. Yes, believe it or not, it's a fact that neurotoxin has the unfamiliar reputation for accidentally spreading a little too far. Radiation does this too, but neurotoxin isn't as thick. Radiation is. Now, Test Subject #12 brings up a terribly good point that even I didn't think of because, once again I'll have to be a robot to not make that mistake.. That and it's common sense which I didn't happen to have at the time. Now, I don't get a sort of cheap thrill of demeaning others by proving obvious points quite like my employees like to when working with their partner, but I do like to be right. Right for what, one man asks. I call him an idiot, and my answer is Science!

Anyway, that point that #12 brought up was: Why don't we create a huge room that could connect to Aperture that is based purely on nuclear and radioactive testing, as well as different testing elements. Hell, he even asked me if he could create a doll that releases neurotoxin! Ha ha ha! (If that was serious, take a break from testing). And what did I say? Perfect idea! The bad thing is, where are we going to put it? My profits are at an affordable amount for whatever sized testing-box you're asking for here, but it should be big. And if it's going to be BIG, it's going to need space. This isn't the 19th century here, folks. We don't need land to farm. We need the best land to farm! However, as unbelievable as it is the government has limited our space.. Which is why the new gigantic testing-box is going to be under the great lakes! That's right, Test Subject #12. A gigantic test chamber based solely on nuclear testing is built purely in not your honor, but your question!

This has raised a few questions. What if we blow up Aperture Science? What if that nuclear bomb explodes so far beyond the test chamber that it ruptures a hole through the great lakes, efficiently killing a predictable amount of people in Aperture Science as a result of drowning? Hell, what if that nuclear bomb happens to be a black hole bomb? Well, okay. Not a black hole bomb per se, but the other limitations could be entirely possible! Face it. It could happen. Fortunately, we haven't started the chamber yet so we'll have time to think of all of the possibilities and efficiently contradict the possibilities, assuming we haven't misconceived science almost completely, resulting in a black hole's feelings getting hurt and essentially it killing us.


	6. EMAIL 6

I've had a few of the boys (monkey subjects) -tap- into (forcefully enter) the MULTIVERSE!

Also, yes, we now have a wing dedicated entirely to the new monkey subjects. You might notice the giant banana wedged in between Test Sphere #4 and #5; that's their 'crib'. Also, I am not the Cave you know, I'm Multiverse Zealot Cave, so I'll be chanting stuff about my new religion, Caveology, for the next few weeks!

And yes, the Cave Johnson you knew and loved was a heretic, so I had some of my boys (monkeys) get rid of (kill) him.

-Zealot Cave


	7. EMAIL 7

Multiverse Zealot Cave here,

As most of you know, we've been staging Monkey Mock Crashes over the past couple of weeks. In case your head was literally inside your stomach as a result of the genetics test lambs 300 feet below my office or you died early and accidentally, the mock crashes are exactly as it sounds. What we do is crash giant robot bananas into their respective others and then see the outcome of it. The outcomes? Dicey. We're talking whole test spheres rattling and falling as a result of it, keep in mind that I installed windows in the spheres just for the sake of having my then-10,000 test subjects (now in the low 50's) -watch- the Mock Crash.

Unfortunately, the mock crash wasn't even a mock crash; it domino-effected every single testing sphere ever built. Boy, if the original Cave Johnson were here, he'd be pulling heads and taking names, which is exactly what I'm doing now. Will whoever is still alive and reading this e-mail please report to my office so that you can volunteer for the new crash? As of yet, it hasn't got any creative name, but... hold on.

...Right, Greg-bot tells me it's going to be called the Real Crash. So, yes, anyone still alive, report to my desk for the volunteering process. We're going to actually crash you into Saturn to appeal to Jupiter. He's told me in my dreams that he'd really appreciate if we could bust up that Saturn as much as possible!


	8. EMAIL 8

Multiverse Zealot Cave again,

As far as we're concerned, the time-boom to the late weeks of the Triassic period... well, didn't work. You're not seeing any dinosaurs here, although the monkey test subjects are running rampant. I managed to strip on my news-anchoring gear with my microphone to stop one in the streets of Aperture with the question, "What the hell do you see?"

He responded, and I got the answer of gibberish and five hours of silence because he killed himself. He levitated upwards, screamed, leaked a few gallons of urine and fell to his death. Namely, fell to his death where he was subsequently ripped to shreds by nothing. My silence-o-matter-tron told me that he said he saw one of five-hundred things. I rounded it down to four by pushing the random button for another two hours.

URNS. DINOSAURS. BLACK HOLES. CAVE JOHNSON.

Any of which have an allegory meaning which extended beyond at least ten or so paragraphs. I read 'em all and deduced that Dinosaurs was the only option that made sense, which meant that the monkey told me he was seeing dinosaurs and not giant Cave Johnson's because, I'll be honest, the likelihood of monkeys being terrorized by giant me's, even if the percentage of that possibility is just numbers above in the .0001's, is astronomically low. It's also impossible because I'm Cave Johnson and I'm not -evil-.

Greg-bot #7 tells me, first of all, that I should go to hell. I didn't just fire his seventh-version ass, but I destroyed it! Aperture's going to hell when we have time for it; it's on my fifth to-do list and I'm on my second, so be patient! Before that, though, he also told me that, in about a week, we'll be raided by dinosaurs. I've managed to pull up my virtual chat screen with their leader who just so happens to sound exactly like me and that's what he told me.


	9. EMAIL 9

Zealot Cave here,

Let the purging of hell begin! That's right, everybody, with the help of Dino-Cave-1, Dino-Cave-2, Dino-Cave-3 and all the way into the high 1000's, we've officially been able to _magic _ourselves into the underworld and have begun to spread the word of Caveology. At first, my plan was to convert all the millions of demons with one horn sticking out of their foreheads into Aperture Science, but it quickly went wrong when the simple mentioning of the very word _Caveology _made them burn to death. Thing is, it's the underworld, so they just came back after a few years which, in Hell, is a few seconds. Since putting high-tech television screens all over the underworld with the word 'Caveology' buzzing, which is to say practically littering the place's walls with 'em, _everything ever _down there is just dying and will continue to do so forever, which means we've essentially bought Hell.

Incidentally, Aperture is no longer Aperture; the symbol isn't anywhere near that, either. Instead, it's a rough outline of my face with the word Caveology next to it. Let's be honest, the only ones who are getting this email are the 20 remaining test subjects in the building. Once again with the help of Dino-Cave's, we've effectively mashed every test sphere together to create the very entity we call the Superbanana!

The bad news? Humans can't even live in it, and since Caveology's nothing _but _a Superbanana, that means no one is seeing this email except for thousands of very illiterate dinosaurs with my face sewn on to what used to be theirs. To the twenty remaining subjects, good riddance. Another good riddance is also to Science itself. I was contemplating setting up shop on the Moon but then I remembered that one of the rules of Caveology is not to stray away from home because space is God-Cave's universe and he doesn't want the damn thing touched by monkeys or time-worn dinosaurs _or _lesser versions of him, which is me.

One of the rules, unfortunately, is never to make friends with dinosaurs. I know what you're thinking, "Cave, God-Cave's got you by the short legs and curly beams of metal sticking out of your back," but he hasn't because if he'd been able to foresee the future and/or my motives, he'd know that I'm going to be staging the next level of Caveology… the purging of Cave's. Here's the plan, I'm going to get all thousands of Dino-Cave's on my side and then we're going to traverse the multiverse in search of every Cave that's every existed ever in any universe.

My past science antics would tell me that I would instantly cease to exist if this were to happen, but my antics also tell me that'll kill off any Cave ever, which mathematically decreases the time at which I'd need to kill all Cave's in every universe dramatically, which means that I'm getting to that plan as soon as monkey-ly possible.

Z. Cave, we're done here.


	10. EMAIL 10

Cave Johnson again,

I'd just like to let all test subjects and employees know that the junk mail regarding a Zealot Cave has now been terminated. In case you hadn't read it all, he was rambling on about Aperture being a Superbanana, Aperture not even being Aperture but instead a re-haul to Caveology as well as the fact that _every _test subject and employee hadn't existed… and he found hell. I'd like to clarify that this crap is, once again, junk and therefore never happened.

For the outsiders reading this, don't presume to think that the fact that I had to personally reassure everyone in Aperture Science that none of this stuff happened was stupid because, believe me, I'm amazed that I did it for good reason. There's a rumor going around that what Zealot Cave did actually happened. How the hell is that a rumor in _my _facility? The fact that every test sphere exists, the fact that our symbol is still an aperture, never mind the fact that everyone isn't _dead_ clarifies itself! I don't need to be the one to debunk the mystery that everyone is in fact not dead and not delusional!

More so, Zealot Cave's real. That's right, he is, and he's in a test lab as we speak roaming about and climbing up the walls. No, before you ask, we didn't inject the alternate me with that spider DNA we were working on. First, that didn't even go well; it didn't give the subjects super spider powers, it literally turned them into spiders. Good news is, they lost their nervous system in the process which means they couldn't also feel the subsequent spider eggs bursting outta their bodies.

Bad news second, the people that were eaten _by_ the spiders, on the other hand, felt all. At least I can reassure myself that I only lost twenty employees and not the whole facility with it like Zealot Cave. Speaking of him, he's a monkey. You may have wondered why this Zealot Cave Johnson, who personally founded and funded his own religion, was interested in monkey houses, monkey chapels and monkey overseers. Thing is, he's a monkey, so let's get that out of the way. It's very likely that he might hack into our cores where they'll begin spouting his plans about Caveology, God-Cave and world domination… or what have you.

Again, if you see any emails from Zealot Cave, do not panic! None of it happened and will happen. Also, test subjects, I've just finished installing titan-steel bars all around the facility. Welcome, gentlemen, to the Aperture Penal Science Colony. I _am _the warden around here.


	11. EMAIL 11

Warden Cave here,

It's been a week since I've announced to all test subjects that they are now test _prisoners_. As of then, the whole damn colony's been rowdy. That might have to do with the fact that we still haven't fixed the gravitational stabilizers yet, so in case you hadn't noticed, we're _still_ in zero gravity and not on the moon. In fact, hell, we're past the moon. Greg's telling me we've officially passed Mars, which means we've passed our last opportunity to last safely on a planet that can be landed on, which means that we'll forever be in zero gravity... which is bad because the LIKE button that I had the cores add to each individual's holding cell has been pressed negative times.

I'm serious; the scores on my screen are as followed, and I'll just pick one random place from the screen:

TEST PRISONER #374 - LIKED -55 TIMES  
TEST PRISONER #375 LIKED -19 TIMES  
TEST PRISONER #376 LIKED 4 TIMES  
TEST PRISONER #377 LIKED 21 TIMES  
TEST PRISONER #378 LIKED -149 TIMES  
TEST PRISONER 379 LIKED -28 TIMES

Right, you get the point. First of all, you might be thinking that Test Prisoner #377 is lucky as all-hell and should be commemorated for all of the likes he's gotten. The fact that he's only got 21 likes but that's considered _good_ is _bad_. It's true that I was half-tempted to literally commemorate him by taking him off the grid and back into normal, non-death testing, although I recently just checked up on his records and his likes skyrocketed from down -86 and up to 21 for managing to spray graffiti on the back of my office. That's a place which can't even be _reached_, by the way.

He's been sent to Test Death Row, the new wing, where he'll be filled to the brim with neurotoxin. #378, on the other hand, is hated for doing his job, which is to be a good prisoner, in addition to promoting friendly prison behavior, which is not to snag out cores from their respective places and somehow using the bot's insides to make a run for it. Some of my employees which have mistaken cores for prisoners with hollowed-out cores on their heads have been fired as a result of sheer stupidity, although Greg tells me that's hypocritical because every test prisoner is stupid because, hell, who becomes a prisoner in a place which was never a prison to begin with? Ha!

...The answer is, you don't, and so the employees and the thousands of test subjects don't have swirly-finger magic letting them see into the future and predicting my choices, which means I'm not a hypocrite because they never saw this coming. They aren't bad, I'm just the warden and I call the shots. Now, don't get me mistaken for Zealot Cave because I've put him in a giant cage. He's postponed his emails, it seems, but that's good because I swear if I see yet another thing clogging my mail up, even if it isn't promotions to become a giant damn cowbell, I'll fire them!

Literally, actually. We're in space and now we've got good reason to use those stored-up jetpacks we didn't have any use for other than to pin bodies up there for show in case we got another batch of psychopaths that didn't like the facility because they didn't see pinned-up bodies stuck in giant spikes. And yes, that's why we've had those spikes just sitting there. If you don't remember anything of _any _bodies being pinned up there, you won't now. We've been wiping everyone's memory on _that_ specific event.

- Cave Johnson, Warden


	12. EMAIL 12

It's Warden Cave,

Good news first, the gravity stabilizers finally managed to stabilize _themselves_. That means zero G is once again gone and therefore everyone in the facility is able to do their jobs. Now, while that accounts for the employees, the prisoners on the other hand do not _have _jobs and rather run on demands, one of which is perpetual, that being to shut yourselves up. It's as simple as that. I'm amazed that the rule _not _to have more than fifty people in one place in Test Death Row hasn't been broken yet. Alright, that concludes the good news; now for the bad news. Readers, you might want to brace yourselves because the next few paragraphs will be nothing _but _bad news. If any employees didn't walk through the negative nullifier just up yonder near Test sphere-prison #6, get yourselves restrained. No, really; after this, it's 99% negativity and 1% nothing at all, so you might literally want to brace yourself down into a steel bed while reading it.

The bad news is, when we fixed and launched the gravity stabilization modules on the outer rim of the colony, Greg forgot to tell me that there were _still _people floating more than fifty to one-hundred feet off the ground. The mail that mentioned having to get yourself to float downward to the ground just as we fixed them was never even sent, and as a result of that, we've lost over _five-hundred test prisoners and employees_! I can't find anyone else to blame but Zealot Cave, who's still a monkey for those still concerned, and as a result we've strapped a jetpack to the guy and fired his ass out at full throttle into the emptiness of space. Good riddance.

The additional bad news is, prisoners are now using my previous email to their advantage and are now up-rating _every_ test prisoner they know and pinning crimes on them, some of them not only being law-breaking but instead breaking both the laws of physics _and_ of science. I'm looking through the files here and one test prisoner's been reported to knit himself a red cape, gel up his hair (with the repulsion gel), strap on tights, fly outside the colony, _grab _the damn colony and throw it even farther into space. Another one, test prisoner #45, says that he stabbed himself with a wire, pledged himself to drinking conversion gel up to the throat, setting the wire on _fire _and blowing himself up, effectively making himself a conversion gel bomb. There's only one good thing that cave out of this; the blood mixed in with the gel so much so that it was obsolete at this point.

Continuing that 'good news', it was soon realized that the blood-mixing was intentional, which means that there was never good news to even begin with. The case is that blood and conversion gel don't mix well together and instead burns to a deadly degree through anything, so much that it has created a hole in the hull and _that's_ why we sealed it up. As a result of that accident-slash-plan, we've lost an additional fifty-three test prisoners. The hemogel's still floating around the colony because we're either so important or so physically big that we've developed a gravitational pull. That's not good because, once again, the rings around the colony are not rock-rings the likes of Saturn but rather deadly, burn-through-anything gels.

Even worse is that I mentioned swirly-finger magic in my last email. Well, it turns out that one test prisoner, namely #666, has actually managed to stop me dead in my logic-streak track. That's to say, anyone who gets in my way typically gets _out of the way _when I throw at them complicated scientific words like hemogel, repulsion gel, conversion gel, propulsion gel and such other gels. This time, he's stopped _me_ by actually confirming the existence of magic. So, you know, to the prisoners: Go team. Look, I'm Warden Cave Johnson but I'd been, at a time, personally affiliated with the original Cave Johnson from Terra-1 and he told me that he'd had a problem with… I don't know, what was it, Greg? That's right, a 'regurgitated gel problem.' Right, that sounds accurate enough; my point is, we're now having gel problems.

So, to sum it all up, we've got a large amount of people _dead _because of the stabilizers going online, prisoners are being automatically terminated for being rated good on the LIKE scale, we've been surrounded with a ring of 'hemogel', we're having to deal with a test prisoner who's independently discovered magic and we're having reproducible gel issues. If you've braced yourself, you can let yourself out now. You've officially dealt with the most _negative _email ever!

- Cave Johnson, Warden


	13. EMAIL 13

Cave Johnson again,

Terra-1 reporting! No, seriously, chariots chariots. It seems as though every employee has been getting emails from unknown, now-known alternate versions of me; specifically, much more _extreme _versions of me. That's to say a monkey Cave convinced that he's fooled you all with the concept of Caveology and a madman Cave who turned Aperture into a prison. I'm just going to go out and say, before a hit is placed on my very life, that I am 100% original. It turns out that Zealot and Warden Cave refrained from mentioning that a damn movie inspired them to do the things that they did. I'm just going to predict that Zealot Cave was inspired by some sort of bible-and-kuran audiobook while Warden Cave, on the other hand, was inspired by Good Will Hunting. I don't know how the hell that even works, but then again I'm the guy who's replaced everyone's underwear this morning with crystallized uranium, so I suppose other Cave Johnsons have other hobbies. Again, Good Will Hunting?

Now, we've got some pretty good news and some bad news that's likely to make the good news not seem good anymore. Greg tells me that I should chronologically order the bad news at the front and the good news at the end so that readers can go out with a bang. When I say that, by the way, I don't mean going out with a gunshot to the head; I'm talking about me making the last paragraph good news and to such a positive extent that it hits you like a speeding piano playing Chopin. That's an actual test, by the way. Follow the maroon line on the floor near test sphere #2. You're going to want some keys placed on and _in _you so that any pain caused _by _the speeding piano will cause you to play along with it in sync… mostly in sync. It's there to show you that if you're in massive pain and dying and are about to die, you can assure yourself that you contributed to science by actively playing Chopin.

Now, you're probably telling yourself, "Cave, I don't like pianos." Guess what I don't like? Ramps for the disabled. At this point, it's not a matter of kindness; it's a matter of _why _the disabled are in a facility like this! Go back to your families and take the help that you need; we're offering nothing! If you plan on rolling up and down the ramps, a place which, by the way, non-disabled people actively share because I _had _to put ramps in the facility, I'll fire you. I don't need consent because this is Aperture Science and I'm the boss around here. Anyway, if you don't like pianos, that's okay because right next to the 'Speeding Piano Playing Chopin' room there are five others with a saxophone, a bagpipe, a violin, a guitar and a harmonica. There's also one bigger room next to all of them named the 'Room Where You Get Hit By Every Instrument Next To This Room.' The name should be able to cover the would-be explanation.

You might be asking yourself a very trivial question now: Cave, how's that bad news? That sounds like good news to me, damn it! The answer is, I didn't take Greg's chronological suggestion. He's been under the impression that he too is a boss. The actual fact is, he's just another employee allowed into my office for an indefinite amount of time until I decide he's put in a position of power. Okay, the bad news? That'll come tomorrow. I've just finished installing a vending machine into my office and in my computer and I'd like to feel good for about a day before getting back to the Aperture Depression. Alright, get back to work!

-Cave Johnson


	14. Cave Prime Is Cool

Cave Prime here,

Now, for the last five-hundred years my self-sent emails addressing that I was Cave Prime were being confused with another Cave from the Terra-1 version of Earth. Apparently he plagiarized the name for himself because he, quote-unquote, was the 'original' Cave Johnson. So, you're probably wondering what dear ruler & overseer of every planet in Earth's vicinity, specifically one point five trillion billion miles, AKA _me_, actually _did _with this false Cave Prime! The answer is I did nothing but trash his version of Aperture Science because my assumption was correct that he was as obsessively attached to science as I was, enough so that I'd install myself into the patent I call the Transformer.

I want no contest is my point. It's not that I'm afraid to fight or, for that matter, _cannot _fight. In fact, that theory was disproved when I battled the centurions of the Eagle Nebula, sucked _in _the actual nebula with a giant megaphone and spat it out into a box of nebulae-tissues. Those nebulae-tissues, by the way, have disappeared from the waiting lounge which isn't good. If we get another centurion invasion, be sure to notify me or you'll be in big trouble… also known as deep-space no-suit patrol. Speaking of, if you go to your desks this evening (or this morning; at this point there's no day-night schedule here because Earth's been a giant hollow magnet-steel ball since you can remember) and see a red DESTROYED stamp on your desk, do not panic! You have to keep in mind that you haven't been destroyed _yet_, which means you hadn't been living in the afterlife for over seven-thousand years. Oh, but if you _do _see DESTROYED, then comply and accept your fate that is the extermination of your existence.

Which brings me into my next project: The Robotics Improvement Inhibition Society! Greg-tron ZZ-4.3531698 came up with the name so if you've got any motives to come and say thanks, then come to me instead because I run on the constant reassurance that I'm 100% boss-bot. Here's a reminder, though; come to my desk for thank you's and thank you's _only_. There's no telling how many of you are going to swarm and riot outside my office asking to join the society, which brings me into my next warning: The Robotics Improvement Inhibition Society has a hefty population of one. That one's me and will continue to be forever. There's no actual reason it's considered a society other than perhaps how many ego-bots I'll spew out to serve me during my time with the society.

Okay, so let's get one thing straight: The Robotics Improvement Inhibition Society or R.I.I.S is an initiative to get every robot ever actually become robots this time. We've had trouble getting it across to friends of the dead that the person they're talking to isn't really their friend but rather their memories placed _into _a brand-new robo-body, but at the end of the day you shouldn't have friends at all. Hell, the word 'care' shouldn't even be present in your dictionaries or libraries of vocabulary in the first place! I built you all because I'm programmed to reign over all and take control of every last ounce of anything and my plan was never to reenact every cliché in every moving picture that I've seen, which is to have the villain either get overthrown by his underlings or overthrown by the hero. By the way, the hero doesn't even exist.

Anyway, you're all aware of that now. The other Caves apparently say something witty to end the email, but since I'm Cave Prime and I don't take orders from no damn others or do the same thing that other version of me does, I'll just end it with a bang and call it the end. See you all tomorrow… or today. Again, hours don't exist here.

Cave Prime at age 152,000, we're mechanically done here!

PS: Got sick of the emails being numbered, so I went out of my way to name it something custom after having my creativity chip installed. Yay me; go me. Alright, back to work.


End file.
